


Vile

by ppeacherine



Category: Code Geass
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25604458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ppeacherine/pseuds/ppeacherine
Summary: Rolo wants something that he both can never have, and that he should never have wanted in the first place.
Relationships: Kururugi Suzaku/Rolo Lamperouge
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Vile

**Author's Note:**

> Usual reminder that all my Code Geass works operate around the entire cast being in university and at minimum being 18 (Rolo in most of my Geass fiction is ~24-25 and older than several other characters, including Suzaku, so go figure). 
> 
> I wanted to write a different take on the masturbation trope i see semi-frequently with a lot of fandom ships (in general), but with way less focus on the sexual/lust/comedic part of it and more on the emotional/daydream part of it.
> 
> Idk why I resonate with the idea of the Directorate kind of having this view that bodies/sex/love/etc. are taboo. Probably because of V.V.'s raging jealousy over Charles's relationships, especially the ones that ended up with kids.

V.V. had called it vile.

It could be romance; it could be sex; it could be lust; it could be vainity; it was anything that that even tangentially related to love or courtship.It was smiling too softly at Suzaku during one of their many debriefings that dissolved into personal smalltalk. It was seeing him later and being invited to lunch with him. It was panicking when Lelouch asked where he had been, and Suzaku was still beside him to explain that he’d just borrowed his little brother for some company and he’d be more careful in the future to not give him a heart attack,

And it was the fact he had not stopped thinking about the way Suzaku held onto his hand for longer than necessary to give him his mocha at the cafe. That twisted his insides, making him feel hot and cold all at once.

This wasn’t the first time he’d worked himself into a rabbit hole over his interactions with the Knight of Seven. He spent more time than necessary replying to their texts (the personal ones, not the work ones), and lately he’d become acutely aware of the way Suzaku would look over what he was wearing casually. Even more bizarre was that he found himself worried about it when he had never given a fuck in the past - for anyone. He found himself pulling away, and yet Suzaku continued to reach after him.

Suddenly, they were no longer subordinate and superior. Instead, they were caught in a strange courtship where neither knew what the true intent of the other was.

But Rolo thinks he could guess Suzaku’s -- to keep him away from Lelouch. To be a better prize than whatever bait Lelouch had set.

But he didn’t understand his own.

He didn’t understand how he could waste twenty minutes staring at the ceiling, accomplishing nothing, all because he was unable to parse out what he was meant to feel. He had spent years becoming carefully distant and being groomed for detachment, and yet the long-term exposure at Ashford had made everything so much harder. Wasted time, he thinks, wondering if Suzaku would try something different tomorrow to distract him from Lelouch.

But he’s curious about it just the same. He’s curious about if it could be genuine, and what it would mean if it was-- and that’s stupid. It doesn’t help him to think about what it would be like to have the security to be directly subordinate to the Knight of Seven (or something else), or what it would mean for his lifestyle or his ties to the Directorate.

It doesn’t help him to think of how easy disclosure would be, when Suzaku already knew so many of the dark secrets of the Empire and Geass. What it would mean to be free from playing a hundred different identities and yet never having one all his own. Would Suzaku like who he was, then? He knew Suzaku hated Rolo Lamperouge, and yet…

  
He seemed perfectly enamored with _Nebiros_ on the surface. But that’s all it was: the surface.

Rolo doesn’t ask himself what he wants. If he could have his way in some bizarre fantasy. Instead, he finds himself wondering what he could have.

What it would be like to spend time with Suzaku without the pretense. To be by his side to temper his burning, grudging anger and manage his sentiments before they drove him mad. Could he ever have him? Or would there always be a gaping hole where his previous lover had been--

Rolo sighs, covering his eyes with his forearm.

Lover. It was never something he had been allowed to consider. It felt deviant - shameful - to think of it now. Now, when he didn’t have to confess it to anyone. Now, when he didn’t have to worry about the humiliation if anyone found out.

He wonders what it must be like to be the only person in this room with him. If he would be serious and cold, or somber. If Rolo would touch him first, or if he’d rest a hand on his thigh while they sat together talking. Commiserating. Relating. How would it go forward? Would they quiet and react in the silence, or would one of them ask, suddenly, for something?

What it would be like if he let Rolo touch his jaw -- he thinks his fingers would shake like they are right now (only then it would be with anticipation and not fear). He always thought Suzaku’s jaw was damnably attractive, strong and complementing his features in the exact opposite of the way Rolo’s complemented his own.

If they could kiss or if they would hesitate because it was too soft and too intimate for two once-strangers. Rolo doesn’t know how they would get over the hurdle, he doesn’t know how to make peace with himself for wanting anything to do with Suzaku… But if he could, would Suzaku laugh at him for not doing it correctly? Does Suzaku know how to do it correctly? Could he show him?

He can barely see his own skin or touch his own body with an intense, confusing storm of emotions that throws his movements off. Everything was always so forbidden and disgusting. He was repulsive. Him wanting this was unthinkable.

But he wonders if Suzaku would want it. If Suzaku would want to touch him, or if he would feel the same strangeness. If he would laugh to take some of the pressure off, and which of them would tell the other it was fine first.

If Suzaku would take his shirt off, or if Rolo would do it for him -- or if they would even need to at all. What if he pulled him into his lap instead, wrapping an arm around his hips while the heavy hand on his thigh moved to explore the obvious conflict between Rolo’s panicked thoughts and his body -- and if Rolo let him. He thinks Suzaku’s grip would be firm and warm, showing mock-confidence even though Rolo knows he’s just as nervous.

What if he asked if he wanted to stop, and Rolo let himself say no when the Directorate wants him to say yes. He knows what he wants in that moment. One that will never happen. He knows what he wants when Suzaku’s hand is tight between the band of his jeans and underwear, and he can rest his head back on the knight’s shoulder and kiss him.  
He wants to feel wanted, beyond his ability to slaughter or manipulate. Feel what it must be like to share something so profound he had to be told it was vile, and to know that this equally damaged man wanted to share it with him. To have someone touch him and for it to not burn.

To have something so vulnerable and to have those hands in control of it, to allow it to happen instead of never knowing because of years and years of lies and humiliation.

He uncovers his eyes, although he keeps them closed while he catches his breath.

For him to have a part of Suzaku that no one else could have, and for Suzaku to have the same from him. What would it be like to be able to lie beside him, instead of alone in a bed that was far too big for someone that had been raised with the bare minimum of luxury.

It’s a stupid crush, he chastizes himself from the back of his mind. He’s not a child.

But he knows he’ll wonder the same thing a few days from now, chasing the imagined warmth all over again.


End file.
